


Many Have Said

by magistrate



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Gen, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magistrate/pseuds/magistrate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impassivity is a learned disposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Have Said

**Author's Note:**

> 6-hour-or-less ficlet. Also, attempted explanations for a lot of things that confused me about early-season SG-1. See if you can guess them all.

  
**Title:** Many Have Said  
 **Author:** magistrate  
 **Rating:** T.  
 **Genre:** Character study/vignettes.  
 **Beta:** Hiding his face. Actually, none.  
 **Continuity:** Canon-compliant, pre-series from the movie through to _Children of the Gods_.  
 **Summary:** Impassivity is a learned disposition.  
 **Disclaimer:** There's no conspiracy; SG-1 really does belong to MGM. The opinions expressed herein are the properties of the characters and not of Christopher Judge. Jaffa may rebel without warning. Salvation via Amun not guaranteed. Questions, comments and concealments can be left in replies or directed to magistrata(at)gmail(dot)com. Thank you for reading!

 **Author's Note:** 6-hour-or-less ficlet. Also, attempted explanations for a lot of things that confused me about early-season SG-1. See if you can guess them all.

=

The slave slipped on the way to the throne room, and Teal'c caught her. That was a mistake. He thought his quick action could only be seen as care for Apophis's property – it would not befit a god of Apophis's rising stature to present a potential host who was bruised or damaged – but some gentleness must have slipped through, and she wrapped her hand around his arm.

She had small hands. Little strength – from being human, from being a woman, from being raised in the temples and not the fields or mines, Teal'c didn't know. But her voice was soft, and she said "You're not a monster. There is choice, even now. If one god falls–"

"Silence!" roared Bra'tac, ahead of them.

Teal'c pulled his arm away, and shoved the slave forward with the head of his staff weapon. He didn't dare glance toward Bra'tac – just kept his hand on his staff, his eyes hard ahead, and he marched her on.

-

"Be wary," Bra'tac advised. "Be always on your guard."

-

The celebration of the fall of Ra lit up the lands of Apophis. Territories, suddenly undefended, were swallowed by the maw of the Serpent; shipyards long regulated were flooded with slaves, who gathered the meagre supplies allowed the System Lords and waited for the spoils sure to come. Apophis spoke grandly of building a second ha'tak, a luxury unknown to any but He Who Is Light To The Two Horizons.

He Who _Was_ Light, now.

And Teal'c, latest First Prime to the Enemy of Ra, He Who Was Spat Out, Eater-Up of Souls, found his life in danger.

The danger came from he slaves, in part; more from the late nights when he wondered if Drey'auc feared Apophis or the loss of her husband more, more from the Jaffa who now saw the position of First Prime as something eagerly to be contested, instead of a dangerous role serving a Goa'uld hated by Ra, with no future and no chance to rise. They were all watching him for weakness, and he hadn't expected it.

Apophis had always been pathetically easy to fool, at times – his slaves had fed him the meat of the ibex when hunters failed to return with boar, or laid bread before him brushed with spices and egg when he demanded it dusted with gold.

But at other times he flew into rages, ordered grand executions on the least suspicions, and hung the heads of traitors from the pylons of his temples. And in the last year before Teal'c turned his back and joined the Tau'ri – before he knew it was possible – there was no predicting the Scaled Encircler, or what he knew, or who would tell him. Wariness was the only choice.

-

Apophis's first bid for allies was to show his largess.

He called together the small Goa'uld lords, holders of continents, perhaps, or small worlds of no importance, and he gathered together the best and most beautiful slaves from his own territories and the ones he swallowed. He offered the minor lords new hosts, and places in the empire of the Serpent.

Most accepted. Those that didn't were quietly disposed of, and that too fell to Teal'c. That was the job he didn't mind, and the one that didn't require him to camouflage his heart.

It was during the other task, the gathering of slaves, that Bra'tac approached him.

"I remember your pride when you came to me with the gold brand on your forehead," Bra'tac said, keeping his voice low as they marched through the barracks. "I remember the arrogance of the young warrior I trained. You were never so dour when I knew you, Teal'c. Tell me. Are you succumbing to despair?"

Teal'c did not, at first, respond.

Bra'tac walked with him, eyes quick, keeping watch for any who might stray too close and overhear. "Any other Jaffa would rejoice at his master's rise."

Teal'c swallowed back the welling disgust. "I would rather he fall," he murmured.

"As would I." The heel of Bra'tac's staff weapon clicked along the floor. "But it is best to smile and swell a little with pride. False pride for a false god."

For a while again, Teal'c did not respond.

"You find it difficult," Bra'tac said.

Teal'c nodded.

"Many things are difficult," Bra'tac said. "The warrior challenges and conquers them all. Do this thing, Teal'c. Live and serve."

"Is there honor in lying?" Teal'c asked, and Bra'tac frowned. "Must I appear to love him?"

"There can be no doubt of your loyalty," Bra'tac said – not reassurance, but a warning. "Forget honor. It is a luxury. Let the world see how well you serve your god."

-

The slaves Teal'c soldiers gathered were mighty, in their small, slave ways: kings and high priests and queens and governesses of lands that still worshipped the minor gods of Ra. Apophis would laugh as their territories crumbled or turned to worship him, and when he took the best to give as hosts and slaves to his own minor favored, he left orders to throw the corpses of the rest through the Chappa'ai to their homelands. He Who Was Spat Out was also cruel.

-

Teal'c didn't wear the cumbersome helmet into the cell; there was no need. They would tell no secrets after they died. But one of the princes turned to him – and only him – and must have seen something in his eyes.

"You can save us!" he cried. "Please, have mercy! You must have mercy!"

_There can be no doubt._

Teal'c's skin was bitterly cold, despite the heat of the staff weapons' discharge. He schooled his expressions and blocked out the screams, and wondered if his heart and his doubts were plain for the world to see.

-

Bra'tac brushed his shoulder outside the abattoir. "Do not allow your heart to falter," he warned.

"I will not," Teal'c said. His voice was cool as stone – a skill he was learning, execution after execution. And every night, as he descended into kel'no'reem, he focused on the muscles of his face: _Be a mask. Betray nothing. Betray me not._ If he learned nothing else from this time, he would learn not to be known.

Bra'tac watched him, and the mask seemed insufficient. "Come," Bra'tac said. "Our lord wishes to see us."

And Bra'tac watched a moment longer, waiting for any hint of anger or disgust to cross Teal'c's face. Teal'c allowed none.

They went together into the throne room and knelt. Apophis had settled into his throne, and a human slave had brought food before him.

"Will you not drink?" Apophis offered, picking a goblet from the table. "You have earned it." Teal'c bowed his head.

"I would never dull my senses when my lord might have need of me," he lied. He was afraid of what the alcohol might reveal.

Apophis laughed. "You are too much a soldier, Teal'c. It is not wrong to revel in your lord's victories."

Teal'c kept his eyes on the floor. "Nevertheless," he said, and bent his head down farther.

Apophis waved a hand. "You have done well," he said. "Each of you. You are free until the setting of the sun on Iunu; go there in the night. I wish it taken by that world's dawn."

"You are generous," Bra'tac said. "It shall be done."

He stood, and Teal'c followed. They left the throne room and entered the halls, and Teal'c thought: Free. No, not for an evening, not for an instant. The word would mean nothing for some time.

-

Then, Apophis claimed a daunting prize: the symbiote Amonet, queen and mate to the System Lord Amun, Protector of the Gate, steward of Ra, keeper of his secrets. And it was in the crop of slaves harvested for Amonet's lieutenants that the warriors from the Tau'ri appeared, scratching in the dust the symbol of the first world ever to triumph against Ra.

Bra'tac warned him against hope, but Teal'c still watched to see if they were chosen. Would they fight?

Would they _prevail_?

For all his life Teal'c had served gods. Why was it that men from the Origin of Slaves should seem more mythical?

The answer, he suspected, was his own desperation. Not the strength of their struggles, not the outrage in their eyes at being beaten back and imprisoned here. Those could easily be, as Bra'tac said, illusions born of Teal'c's own dreams of freedom.

Perhaps.

But he watched them, amazed at what their faces revealed.

-

"Kill the rest," Apophis ordered, and swept from the room.

The prisoners in the cell began to scream, and Teal'c kept his eyes on nothing as he advanced to a firing position. The guards would defer the first shot to him, but not for long – any hesitation was cause for suspicion, any mercy a strike against the Scaled.

One of the Tau'ri stepped forward. "I can save these people!"

Teal'c's heart beat as stiffly as stone.

"Many have said that," he said, but couldn't stop himself from looking toward them. A people who'd known freedom since centuries before Ra's final fall.

A people who'd come to the land of Apophis without being snatched from their own. A people who did not bow to the gods, and who held naked defiance in their eyes. Teal'c could think of no more precious treasure, nor one so obviously a symbol of strength.

He might have lived, every day, concealing his blasphemy, but he would die for the chance to be free.

The stone burst.

"You are the first I believe could do it!" he yelled, and primed his staff weapon, and let the truth be seen.

\- END -


End file.
